Community Service [M]

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[/i], if not always life-threatening.

As I worked my way down the street, intentionally avoiding the dwindling population to the best of my ability, my sack slowly filling, being emptied in a nearby dumpster and being filled once more, my mind sort of dropped away into other realms, no longer bothered enough with current affairs to remain present, and I grew into a mindless repetition that quickly made me an almost unthinking husk; I was not cut out for this sort of work, it pretty much killed me on the inside.

But it was necessary. Not for the village's decorum - fuck that - but for myself. If I was to attend the upcoming exams I required a higher 'mission' count, and I suppose that in the name of the greater good I would just have to pick up fucking garbage.[/ul][/justify]

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[/i]!

All the filth was so impassive to my suffering. Oh, up it went, into my bag, off of its rest, never once offering its sympathies to the shitty condition I found myself in. I glared at one specific can and crushed it till it more closely resembled a needle with little to no effort and tossed it into my bag, much as I just wanted to toss it back onto the floor. Ugh. This was not the life for me. I had to get out of my ridiculously misrepresenting title as-soon-as-fucking-possible. I vowed then that I fucking would.

Very gradually the park entrance began to look ever so slightly less disgusting, each dumping of my garbage bag progressing me slightly closer, which was a welcome sense of achievement amidst this murky, dejecting chore. Eventually I could hardly sustain my anger, and it just grew into bitter resentment that robotized my movements and bleached away my awareness of the passersby who may or may not have looked at me. I could beat the shit out of a gang of bastards single-handedly, and this was how my village saw fit to use my talents.

I could only curse society as it stood as I decided I was fed the fuck up with this place, that it had been swept over enough, and slung my sack over my shoulder and left it, almost bumping into a young couple in my haste to leave; my indignant mumbling was embarrassingly audible, but I managed not to yell at them as I dodged at the very last second, not looking back as I strolled off down the street.[/ul][/justify]

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[/i], which was a far more pleasing prospect than having to lead kids like Hiroki and Shigure.

I wondered how they were doing as I finished a circle of the benches and shite and moved towards the fountain, which had been disabled for the night and had quickly grown murky with accumulated rubbish and stagnation. Even though they were kids, and probably incompetent kids, I didn't hate them... and I wondered why. I even sort of wanted to see them again, at least in that moment. Shigure had been so deathly serious sometimes that it had been irritating in the moment, but now, looking back, it was kinda funny. I had blamed them too hard for what had happened, really. Perhaps it had even been my fault for charging in too recklessly. I grimaced, not altogether because of the stuff I was having to fish out of the little pond.

The water was unwelcome and slightly frightening upon my metal-plated gloves; I may not be a very clean person, but I did like to keep my rather sparse arsenal in good repair. Plus, I'd owned these things since I was like fifteen. I smiled as I remembered what I'd been like at fifteen, even managing to do so with the trash clenched between my hand; it was the sort of stage where... I dunno, you stopped growing and you started... liking guys, I supposed. Like, seriously, not just petty playground stuff. That had never really hit for me; besides growing continuously till I was actually past seventeen, or so it had seemed, I had just never gotten involved in any of that shit. I was too brash and too violent for anyone to stop and consider me, or me them, and I laughed as I thought this. But then I realized that I was laughing rather loudly to myself, so I stopped.

I was still just as... strange, it seemed.

The fountain wasn't too deep, so thankfully I did not have to plunge my whole arm into the rather cool water - it was spring, for sure, but winter still had not fully let the area go, a phenomenon that was especially evident when the sky turned dark. Still, my forearm at least was grew completely sodden very quick - fuck, they hadn't even given me proper equipment. I even had to end up zipping my coat all the way to the neck, something I hadn't done in weeks. I sighed, and plowed on, taking comfort in the fact that I was nearly finished...

And, like all things, eventually it was done, or so I judged by the pitch of the heavens and the amounts of fucks I could sustain; they had just run out. I emptied my bag one last time and, with considerable effort, did not toss it scornfully in after. With a sigh that I was surprised did not shatter the ground, I twisted on my heel and went back up to the Tower, glad that that shit was over.[/ul][/justify]

[Exit]